


Nails or Two to Tangle (The Iron and Ashes Remix)

by Interrobam



Category: Princess and the Frog (2009)
Genre: Backstory, F/F, F/M, Familial Abuse, Families of Choice, Remix, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobam/pseuds/Interrobam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tiana had been slaving over a hot stove since her father had lifted her in his arms and allowed her to stir a pot of gumbo on her fifth birthday. By the sunset of her teenage years she could cook more or less on instinct, could substitute in her sleep. She knew exactly what to put in the begneits to balance out the bitter almond smell of cyanide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nails or Two to Tangle (The Iron and Ashes Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afterandalasia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Two to Tangle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/369091) by [afterandalasia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia). 



> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of racially-motivated violence, racism in general. Physical familial abuse, motivated by homophobia and racism.
> 
> Written as a part of afterandalasia's Princess Assassin AU.

When Tiana opened the door she found a blonde woman standing on her mother's porch who looked like she had just been kicked in the face by a horse. The waitress stared at her, not unsympathetic but nonetheless terribly busy whisking the bowl of batter in her hand and entirely unsure why this stranger would be on this porch at this hour. The woman laid a grimacing smile across her face, her teeth pink with blood, her hair in clumps.

“Tia, sugar, it's me.” Tiana dropped the bowl, so numb with shock that she couldn't even feel the impact of metal on her toes, the sticky lukewarm batter that splattered over her legs. _Charlotte. Oh God Charlotte._

“Lottie, my Lord, I didn't-” Tiana moved to embrace the girl, but her legs tensed up on instinct, holding her back. No, not here, not with people around who could be watching. “I didn't even recognize-”

“Big Daddy knows.” The waitress' blood ran cold as these words left her lover's mouth. “I'm sorry Tia, I don't know how it happened.” The girl shook her head stiffly, her swollen hands grabbing at the gauzy overskirt of her dress “You need to get out of here. Bring your mother. I don't know what he might do.” Tiana swallowed her fear, locked it away deep inside of her, and nodded.

“I'll tell Mama. We should be able to pack up in a few hours. Did you have time to pack? Do you have everything you need?” She chanced a hand on the trembling girl's arm: if the word was already out she would gain nothing from being discreet. 

“Oh Tia.” The grimace returned, Tiana saw the blackness where a tooth had been knocked loose. “Don't you understand? Since Ma died, I'm all he has.” Tears fell down Charlotte’s face, distorting her already smudged eyeliner, painting rivers in her blush. “I'm all he has.”

“Lottie.” The waitress' voice was pleading, quiet with disbelief.

“I can't just _leave_ him.” Charlotte was as petulant as she had been as a child. Her distorted pout caught in Tiana's throat. “I can't. I'm sorry.” She turned sharply, walking down off of the porch and back into her car, avoiding her lover's eyes as her driver backed out of the street. The waitress stared at the retreating headlights, then at the bowl at her feet. 

This batch was ruined. She'd have to make another.

Tiana had been slaving over a hot stove since her father had lifted her in his arms and allowed her to stir a pot of gumbo on her fifth birthday. By the sunset of her teenage years she could cook more or less on instinct, could substitute in her sleep. She knew exactly what to put in the begneits to balance out the bitter almond smell of cyanide. Several times she raised the batter to her mouth to taste before remembering, before stopping short. As she carefully prepared, carefully measured the pastries, she though back being a girl on her father's knee. She remembered asking him why he still tipped his cap to the man who had fired him from his factory job, who had called him a thief, when they passed in the street.

“Baby girl, when you're older you'll learn that sometimes it's better not to burn your bridges.” James had smiled wearily down at his only child. Eudora, who had been washing dishes, listening carefully, snorted at this.

“Not always.” She had turned to the girl, smiling weakly. “Take your father's words with a grain of salt Tiana. Sometimes you have to know when to burn those bridges to ashes and sift through them to collect their nails.” She had winked, merriment nowhere in her eyes, her smile thin. “Iron can be more valuable than a rickety old bridge you know.” Tiana remembered how her father had looked back at her mother solemnly, and the angry look she had shot back to him in turn. Later that night, when James had gone out with his friends and Eudora had retired to the wicker chair on their porch, Tiana crawled out of bed and sat at her mother's feet.

“Are you mad at daddy?”

“No, I'm not mad at daddy Tiana.”

“Is daddy mad at you?”

“Maybe a little bit. Daddy... he doesn't understand some things.” Tiana, young and full of confidence in her lineage, had been quite doubtful that there was anything her father couldn't understand.

“Like _what_?” Her mother had been quiet for a long time.

“Tiana, remember when you asked me why you only have one set of grandparents, while most of your friends have two?” She had nodded. “That's because something bad happened to my parents, back when I was very little. A group of men came to our house in the night and they set it on fire because they hated my family. They killed my parents, my little brother. They tried to hurt me.”

“What did you do?” Tiana had whispered, feeling cold despite the summer air.

“I hurt them back.” Her mothers voice had been as hard and dry as iron and ashes. For a while her words had hung, undisturbed, in the air. The silence was interrupted by a question that had started deep in Tiana's stomach and slowly rose to her tongue.

“Mommy, why did they hate your family?” Eudora had laughed a strange laugh.

“Oh Tiana. Your eyes are so wise, sometimes I forget how young you are. Do you know, between your father and I, we make enough money to move out of this neighborhood? We have enough saved up to live in one of the nice ones, away from the swamp, with painted houses.” Her mother had closed her eyes, her skirt had moved in the breeze. “Why do you think we can't move into one of those neighborhoods?” Tiana hadn't needed to ponder very long to find the answer to that one.

“Because our friends live here.” The strange laugh had come back, seasoning the stuffy air, and the Tiana of the present smiled bitterly at the naivety of the Tiana of the past.

“This bridge is already ruined,” the waitress muttered to herself, allowing her muscle memory to take over as she whisked “, might as well make sure it burns on my terms.” She knew the reality of her situation. Mr. La Bouff was a powerful man. No matter the favors her mother had done for him, no matter the affection he had felt for her family, he wouldn't stand for the smudge Tiana and Charlotte had put on his name. An hour ago the waitress would have hoped, would have expected the best, but she had seen Lottie's bruises. If he would do something like that to his Princess, he would do worse to two poor colored women trapped in a swampy, rundown neighborhood. Tiana wasn't stupid, she had learned many painful lessons since that night on the porch, and she knew she could not expect help from the police. She knew running away was her and her mother's only chance, even if it meant never seeing her lover again, and she was grateful for Lottie's warning. There was just one thing she had to do first.

“Tiana.” Her mother's voice was soft from across the room, and she turned to see Eudora standing with utmost dignity at the doorway to the kitchen, two tightly packed suitcases at her feet. “We're as packed as we're ever going to be.”

“Thanks.” Tiana smiled, tucking a hair behind her ear. “You have any idea where we're staying? I have a friend who moved upstate, she might let us pass the night, but past that-”

“Don't you worry about that. I have an old friend. We can stay with her.” Tiana nodded, tried to keep the tears out of her eyes, failed.

“I'm sorry Mama.” Her voice was quiet, she could feel the fear straining at the prison she had locked it in. “I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to leave New Orleans, all your friends, just because- because Lottie and I-” She quieted as she felt the warmth of her mother's arms around her.

“You can't help who you love baby.” Eudora whispered “You just can't.”

~

Charlotte had been slaving over a pink vanity since her father had taken her to the toy store and bought her a child's desk and a mirror on her fifth birthday. Since her mother had died. By the sunset of her teenage years she could apply concealer more or less on instinct, could line her eyes in her sleep. Yet this barrage of fists had left her clumsy and unskilled. On the night of the beating, after warning Tiana, she could not even begin to disguise the swelling. She put concealer here, blush there, she felt useless for all of her skill. Turning away from the mirror, she picked at her dress. The skirt was dirty from walking in the muddy path to Eudora's door, the sleeve ripped where her father had grabbed her arm. Charlotte took out her sewing kit, mother of pearl with little painted flowers on it. She knew enough to repair a seam, so she set off to do just that, to learn a new usefulness where the old had failed her. Halfway through the sleeve, she cringed at a soft knock on her bedroom door.

“Just a second!” She sang, knotting the thread, biting it off with her incisor. She opened the door just a crack, muscles tensed. Her driver was there, holding a white box. Charlotte’s shoulders relaxed just a tad. It was just Audrey. She trusted Audrey.

“For you.” She held the package out, and Charlotte took it gratefully into her arms. It was warm.

“You're a right angel Audrey, you know that don't you?” The driver nodded her head sharply, closing the door. The girl sat gingerly on the edge of her bed, opening the card laid atop the package.

_“To be safe, try to get him to eat more than one. I know you have it in you.”_ It read in a familiar looping script. Charlotte opened the package cautiously. Beignets. She stared hard at the piece of paper. She turned it over, there was an address scrawled on the back, in strange hand. Her grip was so tight on the box her once purpled knuckles were bleached white.

~

The journey they took to their sanctuary was a long one. They stayed up all night, sometimes hitchhiking, more often walking, with the heft of their suitcases straining their shoulders. Dawn began to creep past the horizon as they came to a terminal. Tiana broke into her restaurant savings, despite her mother pleading with her not to, and bought them bus tickets. The bus could only take them so far, but they walked the rest of the way with renewed feet, telling each other fables and jokes. The laughter kept their pace swift, kept the pain away, kept them alive. When they came to a farm with a large, painted house, Eudora surprised her daughter by turning out off the dusty dirt road and down the lane to the front entrance. Tiana gave the property a sluggish second look, hesitating by its gate.

“Come on Tiana.” Her mother called, and the former waitress made her way up the path, slow with need of sleep. Before her eyes the door opened, and her mother was embraced by a gray haired woman all in blue.

“Eudora.” The elderly woman laughed “It's been ages.”

“Don't I know it Godmother.” For Tiana to see her mother in this woman's arms, head to her shoulder like a child, was an odd experience.“I don't suppose you can make room for two more boarders?”

“Two?” The woman looked surprised, before spotting Tiana and smiling. “Oh. Your daughter?”

“Yes m'am.” Tiana smiled as best she could. “It's very nice to meet you.”

They put her up in a room with another woman. Her hair reminded her of Lottie's, it ached to her bones, but her eyes were cold and her words clipped, nothing like the exuberant girl she loved. Tiana was relieved by this, she couldn't have stood the pain of a smile like Lottie's, a laugh like Lottie's. Her mother lodged in the room of a woman her age, with jet black hair and a childish smile. They seemed to know each other well. Tiana did not see them often: she spent most of her time sleeping, mourning, in her room. On the second afternoon she was induced, with much effort, to join them for tea.

“You haven't touched your food dear.” The Godmother's voice was gentle, but nonetheless persuasive.

“Sorry m'am.” The former waitress muttered, bringing a small sandwich to her lips.

“Oh, I take no offense dear. I just don't want you to go hungry.” She smiled, placing her hand gently to Tiana's knee, before turning to her mother. “You know Eudora, we have so missed your skills in dressmaking. The girls we have now are talented, but you had something special.”

“You flatter me Godmother.” Tiana watched her mother laugh, it was more carefree then than she could ever remember it being before.

“Does your daughter share your talent?”

“Oh no, she's a chef, like her father. To the bone.” The woman smiled, sipping her tea “She never did take to dressing up.” Godmother turned her gaze to Tiana.

“Well, we'll find a place for you yet.” As the older woman settled into drinking her tea Eudora's roommate, the woman with jet black hair, spoke up.

“It was very brave what you did Tiana. No matter how this ends, you've proven yourself your mother's daughter.” The woman bristled, looking to her mother.

“Mama. You can't just tell people-” She was cut off by a warm wrinkled hand on hers, a smile from their guardian

“This is not a house of women who judge quickly, dear.”

~

When Charlotte knocked on the door to her father's room, a plate of beignets in her hand, she was shaking like a leaf in the wind. It was dark in the hallway, but she could see the light through the crack in the door. He had to be awake.

“Come in.” Her father's voice was sorrowful, and he tensed when he saw her in the doorway. “Princess.” He buried his head in his hands, she saw clearly and coldly that there was still blood on his knuckles. “I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have -” he trailed off, looking away from her again.

“I know Big Daddy, I know. I'm sorry too.” Her smile was thin.

“I took it out on you. I shouldn't have, it's not your fault. It's not in your blood.” He stood up, so much taller than her, so much wider. He put his fingers on her shoulder, over a bruise that fit his grip like a handprint. “I'm going to make sure that girl never bothers you again.” For a long while Charlotte was quiet, staring at her father's barrel chest, the shining buttons on his vest.

_I know you have it in you._

“Guess what daddy.” She straightened her shoulders, offered her plate. “I brought you some apology beignets.”

~

It took a few more days, but slowly Tiana adjusted to her new home, slowly she healed her heart, learned the layout of the kitchen. By the end of the week she had managed to lift her spirits enough to make herself some rice and chicken soup. It would be a long time before she felt up to beignets. Eudora had just interrupted her cooking to ask her daughter to join her and Godmother for brunch and a very important conversation when there was a light knock at the door. Tiana would recognize that knock, those four cheerful beats of wood to skin, anywhere. She dropped her knife and ran past her mother, out of the kitchen, down the hallway that was far too long. When Tiana opened the doors there was a blonde woman standing there who looked like she had been kicked in the face by a horse a few days ago. And then put on some makeup.

When they embraced, when they sobbed into each others shoulders, when they pressed their lips together, Tiana didn't even care who could be watching.


End file.
